


you let me complicate you

by tremontaine



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 15:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10744701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tremontaine/pseuds/tremontaine
Summary: "Any last requests," he says, playing off the whole thing with terrible humour, as per usual, and Natasha straddles his thigh with a lazy smile and takes hold of his wrists. His right hand she moves to the small of her back. His left she caresses, rubbing her thumb over the roughened metal of the palm."Use your left hand," she says, just to rub it in.





	you let me complicate you

 

The pain’s a lance that goes right through her, blossoming out across her whole body and melting into pleasure. Natasha groans on every stroke, her noises muffled in Bucky’s shoulder; she can’t help but squirm every time, the impact of his hand pushing her up on her knees against his chest. She lets herself sink back down a little afterwards, enjoying the way each blow rocks her body, her breasts rubbing against the soft cotton of his shirt. There’s a trickle of her slick sliding down her left thigh, distracting, and her cunt throbs, hot and swollen and empty. He’s breathing hard, his right arm tight around her waist, holding her up, holding her to him. It’s maybe not the most comfortable way to do this, but laying herself across his lap would have felt a little too ridiculous, too much like a porn movie.

Maybe next time. God, so many next times. Her hands fist in the cloth of his shirt at his waist, pulling at him, and he cracks his hand across the meat of her ass again, ruthless; she sobs. Further down it doesn’t jolt the plug inside her so much, but there, just there – she’s shaking.

“Beautiful,” he says in her ear, rough and low. “God, you’re so good to me.”

“Fuck,” she says, high and breathless – it’s almost a whine. “Oh fuck, I – please –”

She’s not even sure what she’s begging for. He laughs, strained. “OK?”

“Amazing,” she mumbles. “Fuck, amazing. I didn’t think –”

“You’d enjoy it?” His left hand is always body-warm, but somehow it feels hot as burning on her raw ass, stroking gently over the marks he’s left; he spreads his fingers out and gropes her a little, nudges the plug with a fingertip so pleasure zips through her, tightens her up, pain so closely tangled with it that she can’t separate the two sensations.

“That’s why you try things.” She bites her lip, sore and swollen where she’s been chewing on it. They’ve never held back with each other; the roughness is amazing, the way he can manhandle her, take everything she dishes out. It was the sweet ache of those bruises he gives her that gave her this idea; if she likes that pain, why not this one? No reason. She loves it. All of it. He tangles his right hand in her hair, pulls her head to the side and back; his mouth is hot and soft and gentle on her shoulder and the line of her neck, sweet counterpoint to the raw ache of her ass, murmurs nonsense to her soothingly.  

Natasha grins, wicked. “Why, aren’t you enjoying it?”

Innocent as the day. She shifts closer to him, pressing her knee against his groin, feeling his hard cock jump against her thigh through the layers of his trousers and underwear, and it’s his turn to groan, rolling his hips against her, his hand tightening on her ass; she shudders.

“I didn’t say,” he mutters, incoherent, and she pushes up on her knees to kiss him, his head tipping back for her, the pale eyes half-closed, his lush mouth slack under her own. Punishingly, she bites that pouty lower lip, and Bucky laughs again, scratchy and harsh. “All right, all right. Yes, I’m enjoying it. Look at you squirming about for me so sweet.” He rolls his hips against her thigh again, promising.

Natasha grins again. He likes to act all vanilla, but corner him like this and all his control issues come right to the top. (Pardon the pun.) She knew he’d like it – perhaps not inflicting pain per se, but having her naked while he’s fully dressed, her being helpless, begging for it, watching her ass turn red and bruise and knowing she won’t be sitting down tomorrow and it’s all his fault, that he’s the one who marked her like this, put bruises on her body that no one else will ever know about, used her in a way no one else has ever done or will ever do…

“I thought you might,” she says smugly.

The haze in his beautiful eyes clears; they narrow, sharp and knowing, and the next blow takes her by surprise; she cries out, rocking forwards again, breathless and shaky, and watches his mouth curve into a lazy smile.

“Baby _girl_ ,” Bucky says, deliberately belittling, giving her another smack on _girl_. Oh fuck. Oh _fuck_. Natasha’s chest is hollow, yet more of her slick dripping out of her.

“Don’t call me that,” she rasps, not sure if she means it. Her hands ache, she’s gripping his shirt so hard; it’s probably ruined.

“Call you whatever the hell I like while I got you like this, vixen.” Again a smack as the nickname leaves his lips; oh come _on_. She’s going to end up conditioned to like them. The pain in her ass is deep and inescapable, throbbing in time with her heartbeat. Another smack, lazy, not as hard this time; he laughs at the look on her face. Maybe she was wrong; maybe it _is_ inflicting pain, the power of it, and the knowledge that she likes it.

Dear god, does she like it.

“My star,” she says in Russian, rubbing up against him, her nipples dragging against cotton. Sometimes she forgets how big he is, but it’s undeniable now, the broad strong body beneath her, all hard muscle and heat, and the fact that she’s on her knees above him but still the one being hurt and teased and owned is a nonsensical contradiction that makes her wild. “Please. _Please_.”

Bucky loves it when she begs. His eyes gleam, his mouth softens; she flashes him a grin.

“You want to come, sweet girl?” Another smack on _girl_ , her whole body lit up with it, shaking. “Little vixen.” And then, the worst one of the lot, almost drowned out by her cry when he hits her so hard the tears come to her eyes, “ _Kitten_. You want to come?”

Natasha’s mouth is too dry to speak; frantic, she nods. Bucky pulls her down to kiss her, deep and fierce, suckles her lower lip into his mouth and hits her again. Oh she can’t take this much longer, it’s too good, too hard, too much. Desperate she pulls back from him, works moisture into her mouth. “Enough,” she orders, “fuck me _now_ ,” pressing her thigh hard against his cock, kissing him again and again while he rocks his hips and moans. Her hands pull at his fly, unsteady, but Bucky catches her wrist and pushes her gently back, little ah-ah noise in his throat.

“Hands and knees,” he says lazily, indicating the empty stretch of bed beside them with a tip of his head. She’s shaking when she collapses across that empty space, the sheet cool and soothing against her overheated skin. She hears him kneel up behind her, settling between her splayed thighs; sighing, she tips forwards into the pillows, weight on her shoulders so she can reach back and put her hands on her sore ass and spread herself for him. The way he curses makes her grin, but that’s wiped away when he takes hold of the plug and fucks her with it, short little tug and push out and in.

“Beautiful,” he says again, coming closer; the denim of his jeans rubs against her shaking thighs, and he strokes the head of his cock along her slit. She’s determined not to beg this time, it’s her dignity on the line now, but the friction and the promise make her hips jerk, better than any verbal pleading, and when Bucky slides inside her she can’t keep it in anyway, clawing at the sheets, babbling as he pounds into her sweet spot over and over, his body smacking against her sore ass, the plug still inside her – it’s not big but god she’s so full and so sore and so stretched and so, so fucking close. He fucks her relentlessly, his hands tight on her hips, dragging her back onto his cock, breathing hard, moaning – no silly nicknames now, just _Tasha Tasha so good I love you_ , and even _Talia_ , as if he can’t get his tongue round all four syllables of her name; triumphant, breathless, half out of her mind with pain and pleasure, the one heightening the other, inextricably tangled, she’s laughing helplessly, harsh with the tension of her body straining towards orgasm.

“Bucky,” she whispers into the pillows, his name, his name, she knows his name, it slams into her sometimes when they’re like this, all the times they clung to each other, just like this, took all that joy and comfort and pleasure in one another without her having anything to call him but _Soldier_ , but _my star_ , and now she can spend hours fucking him in their own big warm bed and scream his name whenever she wants to. “Bucky, Bucky, oh please, come on, don’t stop, don’t – more, I need –”

“ _Natasha_ ,” he says, all rhythm lost, “come on love, together,” and that’s all it takes, his hot fingers rubbing at her, the world goes white and drops away, unimportant, as he pulses inside her, as her body clenches up around him and they shake together, drawing it out, aftershocks and oversensitivity and the deep lovely pain in her ass. When he pulls out she moans, her walls dragging at him, drips of his come joining the mess already slicking her thighs. The mattress bounces when he collapses beside her; he took the shirt off before he fucked her, his chest hair dark with sweat, skin gleaming as his chest heaves.

“I love you,” Bucky says, smiling up at the ceiling, all loose-limbed and languid, voice raspy with moaning, utterly relaxed; he puts his arms over his head and stretches, yawning, sort of like a particularly contented cat.

Natasha’s face is wet. She rubs it into the pillows, gasping, aching all over, she's not sure she can straighten her legs, and oh she hurts, bone-deep, trapping her, raw and hot. He turns onto his side and gathers her up in his arms, stroking her back. His jeans are tangled round his thighs ridiculously, pressing against her own bare skin.

“Bucky,” she says again, soft and slurred.

“Here,” he says. Gently gently his fingers part her ass caressingly, work the plug out; she gasps and shivers. “I got you.”

“I can’t ever move again,” she says, her tongue thick in her mouth. The pain’s like a blanket over her thoughts, leaving the core of her free to float around just underneath the ceiling, revelling in how much he loves her. It’s incredible.

“That’s just fine.”

“Hurts so _good_.”

“You are so, so sweet like this,” he tells her, trailing kisses over her face, the side of her neck, her shoulder. “I had no idea… god, just being given all of you like that, I could have gone on for hours. You’re mine, mine, _mine_.”

The gloating repetition makes her shiver and laugh, pressing against him. “I love you,” she whispers.

“You go to sleep. Find some ointment for your gorgeous ass when you wake up.” He kisses her face, her closed eyelids, her mouth.

“I’m not really sleepy. Just, just so happy.”

“Yeah? So am I.” And he kisses her again, smiling against her lips.

 

 

 


End file.
